Alternatives
by Jynjyr
Summary: The team makes a hard choice. Can they live with it?


_Alternatives_

by

_Jynjyr_

A Stargate: SG-1 story

Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me. They just invade my brain, play games with my mind and compel me to put their adventures on paper.

The Stargate universe and all of its characters belong to MGM/UA, Double Secret, Stargate Productions and Gekko Film Corporation. No copyright infringement is intended.

Thank you for letting me play in your universe.

Title: Alternatives

Author: Jynjyr

Spoilers: Abyss - reference to TBFtGoG, POV, MiaB.

Season: After the start of Season 7

Rating: PG-13 (Language)

Warning: AU, Character Death

Summary: The team makes a hard decision. Can they live with it?

Thanks so much to my beta-reader, Norlioness. And to my very confused back doctor, Dr. Dean Pahr, for information on spinal injuries. Any errors are mine alone.

* * *

Alternatives

SG-1 stood at the dark entrance to a cave as Carter checked the readings on her scanner.

"Carter, are you sure this is where those energy spikes are from?" Colonel O'Neill pulled off his baseball cap, scratching his head vigorously before snugging the cap back down.

"Yes, sir." She turned in a circle, pointing the instrument all around before settling back to her original direction. "That's what this keeps indicating. Someplace in there."

"Okay. Spelunking we go."

As the passages branched off, they split up in order to explore more territory.

The earthquake struck without warning, catching them deep in the bowels of the cave system. Pieces of wall and ceiling rained down everywhere; sections of floor gave way, dropping the unprepared into hidden rooms.

Teal'c was the first to recover. The small alcove where he took shelter when the tremors began had a loose pile of rocks partially blocking the opening. Pushing the debris away, he crawled out. Some minor cuts and scrapes oozed blood, but other than being filthy, he was un-hurt.

"DanielJackson, MajorCarter, O'Neill," he bellowed. Soon after entering the caves, they had found that something in the composition of the minerals interfered with radio reception.

"Here." The faint answer drifted from a passage.

Teal'c hurried over, pointing his flashlight to where the voice was still talking. "Teal'c is that you? I'm not hurt, I don't think, just trapped behind this stuff. Is there any sign of Sam or Jack?"

"I have not located MajorCarter or O'Neill. Move as far away from the debris as possible." He hesitated a moment as he tried to determine the best place to dislodge the six foot tall pile. Finally deciding on a key stone about chest high, the man took a firm grip and began pulling. With one final heave, Teal'c yanked the rock free. He jumped quickly back as a small landslide of stone and dirt cascaded into the passage, leaving a two-foot opening at the top.

Daniel scrambled up his side of the barricade, squirmed through the hole and slid down the other side into Teal'c's welcome catch. "Thanks, Teal'c."

The Jaffa surreptitiously checked his friend for visible injuries. "You are welcome, DanielJackson. Now we need to locate MajorCarter and ColonelO'Neill."

"Should we split up?" Daniel tried to blow the dust from his glasses. Not very successful, he put them back on and peered through the light haze on the lenses.

"You have no flashlight."

"I still have these." He pulled three light sticks from his vest and cracked one into activity. "It's better than nothing."

"Very well." Teal'c gestured toward the passage that ran deeper into the cave. "I will go this way. You will go back toward the entrance. MajorCarter was searching near there."

The two men went their separate ways. The caves echoed with their calls.

Daniel found his prize first. A yell of pain led him down a side passage where he found a long stretch of floor collapsed. The resulting hole was about four feet deep at the shallow end and went to ten feet at the deepest. Carter lay tumbled at the bottom, clutching her left arm protectively to her chest.

"Sam," he shouted, sliding over the edge and down the slope to her.

"Daniel," she mumbled, "Where's Teal'c and the Colonel?"

"Teal'c is looking for Jack. How bad are you hurt?" He gently helped her to sit up.

The woman groaned, "My shoulder. I think it's dislocated."

"Can you walk? We have to get out of this hole."

Sam tried to stand but, the strain of balancing on the uneven ground was too much and she fell against Daniel who cushioned her trip to the floor. "I'm not going anywhere until you put my shoulder back in place."

"I've never done that," her friend said, appalled. "I have no idea what to do."

"I'll talk you through it." She looked at him reassuringly. "It's not that hard. First, get my vest off. We'll have to use it as a binding when you're done."

Daniel thought for a moment, and then began peeling the velcro tabs holding the front to the back. The vest slipped down without disturbing the injury much. "Now what?"

Sam gritted her teeth against the pain that little bit of movement cost. "Loosen the lacing on both sides. You'll have to snug it back down after."

When that was done she continued, "I'm going to lay down, you sit next to me. Put one foot here," she pointed to just below her armpit, "take my arm above the elbow and pull, hard, straight out until you hear a 'pop'. If I pass out, don't worry and don't stop until it's done."

Daniel looked sick enough to faint himself. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. Just do it before I lose my nerve." Sam leaned carefully back until she was lying flat.

He got in position and they both took some deep breaths. Closing his eyes, Daniel started pulling as ordered. Their combined screams made dust fall from the ceiling and caught Teal'c's ear.

Daniel was tightening the laces on Sam's vest when the other man arrived. Her arm was tucked inside, supported and immobilized. "How's that feel?"

"Pretty good actually," she answered, surprised. "It hurts, but nowhere near like it did."

With help from both men, she got to the top of the hole where Teal'c lifted her up to sit on the edge. As the other two climbed out, she walked around, testing the effectiveness of her makeshift bandage. "You know, Daniel, this is more comfortable than the real slings I've had before."

"MajorCarter, I have been unable to locate Colonel O'Neill. Are you capable of joining the search?"

Sam shook her head. "I'm not going to be much good trying to get around in here. You guys keep looking. I'll go to the Gate and call for backup."

After she left, the two men headed back into the cave to search for their comrade. Teal'c's deep voice and impressive volume caused echoes to reverberate throughout the labyrinth. But it was Daniel, wielding Carter's borrowed flashlight, who spotted the first sign of their missing teammate. Shining his light into an open chamber, a spark reflected back to him.

"Teal'c, here. I think I've got something." He stooped to pick up an object from the rubble-strewn floor. "His flashlight. And there's his gun."

Daniel pulled the light stick from his pocket, holding it over his head to cast the illumination as far as possible. The greenish-white glow made the out flung hand in the fingerless black glove shine against the debris that lightly covered the rest of the still form. "Oh my God. Jack."

Both men rushed over and started throwing the fist-sized stones, pebbles and dirt off their friend.

"Hang on, Jack. We're here. We'll have you out of here in no time," Daniel kept talking the entire time. They quickly uncovered O'Neill's head and shoulders. He was lying on his back, an arm crooked over his face, shielding his mouth and nose from being buried. His black knit cap was sticky with blood from a gash on his forehead.

Teal'c laid two fingers against the other man's neck and answered the question Daniel was afraid to ask, "He is alive." He continued as an aftershock rained pebbles onto them, "We must remove him quickly from this area."

Daniel, who continued to dig, exclaimed as the other man reached to move Jack's arm away from his face, "Stop! I don't think we should move him at all. His back may be broken."

The Jaffa warrior paused and looked at the injured man's position carefully. Now that more of the obscuring dirt was gone, he saw the wedge shaped boulder that the Colonel was arched over. Located just above the top of his shoulders, it looked as though he landed on it when the floor of the passage above collapsed under him. "You are correct, DanielJackson. It does appear that O'Neill's back or neck is injured."

Carefully, they unearthed as much of him as possible without allowing his body to shift position. They were almost done when they heard voices. Teal'c cautiously finished removing the slab of rock that pinned O'Neill's legs while Daniel went to direct the rescue team.

Dr. Fraiser and two medics accompanied SG-6. In no time at all, they had Colonel O'Neill in a cervical collar, immobilized on a backboard and both legs splinted. He was secured with so many straps that the color of his uniform was barely visible. As the group moved out, they were making so much noise that no one heard the low moan emanating out of the upper chamber from which the fallen floor came.

Twenty minutes later, they stepped through the Stargate into the SGC. A medical team with a gurney met them in the Gateroom and, as soon as Jack's stretcher was secure, they wheeled him at a run for the Infirmary. General Hammond didn't try to keep Dr. Jackson or Teal'c; he knew SG-1 would report to him after they confirmed their friend's condition. He went to his office and began pacing, worried about O'Neill as well.

Dr. Fraiser stopped abruptly at the door to the Infirmary. She looked over her shoulder at the four members of SG-6 who were hard on the heels of Daniel and Teal'c. "Stay out here."

Daniel started to protest as Janet continued, "You two, stay with Sam. You will not come to where we are working on the Colonel. Is that understood?"

Taken aback by the fierce side of Janet that few ever saw, the two men nodded and hurried over to Carter's bed. After filling her in on what they knew of Jack's condition, the three sat silently staring at the curtained area hiding all the activity, afraid that if they spoke about them, their worst fears would come true.

Finally Janet pulled the drape back far enough to exit. Her gown was smeared with blood and dirt and her expression was grim as she approached. She dropped into the chair next to the bed and looked at the floor as she spoke, "It doesn't loo…" her voice broke and she had to take a couple of deep breaths before she could continue, "It doesn't look good. His neck is broken above the shoulders. He's got a punctured lung, internal injuries, and both legs are fractured. We've got him stabilized for now. We'll have do a Cat-scan to confirm that the spinal cord is torn but, since I don't get any reflex response from his hands or feet, I'm …not very hopeful."

Before any questions could be asked, the monitors from the other end of the room began screaming their warnings. The doctor practically flew back to her patient. "Get the crash cart in here, STAT!"

Daniel and Teal'c held Sam between them as they hurried over to be with their teammate. They flinched as they heard the shout of "Clear" and the thud of the defibrillator discharging.

They pulled back the curtain just in time to see Janet shock O'Neill for the second time. Even strapped to the backboard his body tried to arch as the electrical charge surged through him.

"Again," she shouted. For the third time Jack's body strained against the restraints.

They all checked the monitor, no reaction. "Charge to360 joules." The machine signaled and she called, "Clear."

She never got to touch the paddles to her patient's chest. Teal'c brushed aside the medical personnel and leaned across the bed to catch Janet's wrists in his hands. "No more," he thundered.

The woman struggled in his grip. "Let go of me. If I don't do this, he's going to die."

The big man bowed his head and shook it from side to side. "No more," he said softly.

Daniel stepped over next to the bed and, laying his hand on Jack's shoulder, told Fraiser, "Teal'c's right. That's enough. Let him rest."

"Sam?" Janet looked to the one person she thought would agree with her.

Carter moved to stand next to the other woman. She took the paddles one at a time from the doctor's hands as Teal'c released them. "No, Janet. It's time and you know it."

Daniel reached up and flipped the switch to shut off the monitor.

At the sudden silence, Sam turned, laid her head on Janet's shoulder and gave her a one armed hug. "God. Janet, I'm going to miss him so much," she sobbed.

After a few minutes, Teal'c and Daniel took Sam back to her bed. This time, they sat with their backs to the rest of the room. They couldn't bear to watch the sheet draped form of their friend being wheeled away to the morgue.

It was a long night for the remaining members of SG-1. After the medical team finished the final formalities and O'Neill's corpse was in the cooler awaiting Dr. Warner's autopsy, Janet Fraiser approached her comrades. They were still gathered by Sam's bed, not saying anything, just being together.

"Can I join you?" she asked, tentatively, not wishing to intrude.

Daniel held out an arm and beckoned her over. "Come here."

She stood next to him, welcoming the comforting embrace of her friend. She started speaking very softly, "They teach us in medical school to keep fighting for our patients. To keep going at any cost. What they don't teach is when to quit. When to say, 'No more.' That surrender can be a victory, no matter how bitter," she swallowed and hiccupped, "Thank you for that victory. I think that, wherever Jack O'Neill is, he's thanking you too."

Janet stayed for a moment more before she squeezed Daniel's hand and turned to go. "I have a ton of paper work to do now. The Colonel is still a pain in my butt," the woman half laughed as the tears started to trickle down her cheeks. She practically ran from the infirmary.

Dr. Fraiser shut her office door and leaned heavily against its support. Janet felt the tears start again but, this time she didn't try to stop them. Doctors weren't supposed to get attached to their patients. How could she not get attached to SG-1, they spent more collective time in her care than most on the base.

She sighed, "Napoleonic Power Monger, huh? Oh, Colonel, you may have been a pain in my ass but I am going to miss you."

The SGC medical staff had begun to believe that there was nothing the members of SG-1 couldn't survive. Daniel Jackson even came back after being 'dead' for a year.

O'Neill seemed to have more lives than a cat. Freezing in Antarctica, taken over by alien micro-organisms, marooned in deep space, the explosion in the Gateroom, and most recently, the ancient disease; he'd survived them all.

Janet shuddered at the memory of seeing the Colonel lying on that rock pile in the cave. Her doctor's eye told her immediately that this situation wouldn't have a happy ending. His neck and shoulders were at an angle the human body wasn't meant to assume. No matter how careful they were extricating him, they were doing more damage to the spinal cord. If he survived, he would be totally paralyzed; trapped and in pain, hardly able to breath on his own.

The rest of SG-1 were correct in stopping her efforts at resuscitation, The Colonel's own living will dictated that he didn't want extreme measures taken. At the time, she was thinking of her own loss of a friend, not his final wishes. "I'm sorry, Jack. I shouldn't have forced them to that. It was my responsibility."

Janet couldn't picture SG-1 without their wise-cracking 'elder brother' in charge. After all these years, they were the only SG team that had all its original members. Even while Jonas Quinn was here, when SG-1 was mentioned, she pictured Jack, Daniel, Sam and Teal'c. Jonas tried to fit in, but he always seemed to be an afterthought.

Sitting at her desk, she moved the box of tissues closer to her side. No matter how clinical the reports had to be, Janet would see the face of her friend in every line.

She took the last page off of her printer and placed it in the folder in front of her. The electronic versions were zipping their way to the Air Force's Bureau of Personnel. All she had left to do was fax a signed copy of the death certificate and the bureaucrats would be satisfied.

The woman put the original certificate in the file and slowly closed the cover. That was the final entry she would ever make in this overflowing journal. Colonel Jonathan 'Jack' O'Neill – deceased.

Dr. Fraiser slid the file into an envelope marked "Inactive" and added a notation of the identity, date and time of death and left it on the clerk's desk to be filed.

* * *

It took a moment for Jack O'Neill to realize that his eyes were open. It was pitch black where he was. The last time he was conscious there was some light filtering up from the hole in the floor, but that was gone now. He lifted his prone body as far up as possible to allow his free hand access to the pocket on his vest, finally getting it open and retrieving a light stick. He managed to crack it with one hand, wincing at the brightness as it began to glow. 

The man let himself relax back to the uneven floor and took stock of his situation. Flat on his face, his left arm pinned to the ground by a rock the size and shape of one of Daniel's larger reference books, a lump on his head, and the rest of him feeling like he'd been a target for a baseball barrage. Oh yeah, and the dreadful certainty that the noise and light that woke him the first time was a rescue team. Leaving with the 'other' O'Neill.

They only saw each other for a second before the earthquake started. The 'other' was dressed a little differently, a black cap and gloves, but it was still like looking in a mirror. Then the floor started to crumble and Jack leaped back.The 'other' disappeared with a yell as the bottom dropped out from under him. One of those rocky little baseballs beaned him then and that was the last he remembered until his brief encounter with consciousness as the rescue team was leaving.

Jack twisted his head to look at the arm extended above him. He wouldn't make the mistake of trying to slide it free this time. His forearm was trapped under the stone and, although it hurt like hell, he could bend the elbow. Squirming around he got in a better position to, he hoped, pry himself loose. A few attempts at lifting the weight proved that he didn't have the leverage to do this barehanded. He thought longingly of the big pry bar at home in his garage. He could slide a base in there, plop that thing down, a little push on the end and 'Voila', freedom.

"I wonder?" he muttered as an idea struck him. Reaching down, he unsnapped his holster and drew his pistol. He clicked on the seldom used safety, then sat the weapon with the barrel pointing up and tipped it back and forth on its end a few times. "Damn, that might actually work."

Jack ejected the magazine, but had no way of emptying the chamber with one hand. He would have to trust to the safety and hope he didn't blow his own fingers off. He looked around in the dim light and soon found a nice flat stone within his reach, a half-inch thick with a small hollow to keep the pistol from sliding. Getting in position, he leaned on his makeshift pry bar and felt the weight holding him lessen. He pushed again. The gun twisted sideways, dropping the rock back onto his arm.

"Gaaaaahh! God dammit," O'Neill continued screaming curses in so many languages even Daniel would be proud. Once the initial shock of the sharp pain had subsided, he laid still, with his face in the dirt, panting, the tears on his cheeks were as much from the pain as the dust in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he regrouped.

"Jack, me boyo," he said conversationally as he smeared the mud away from his eyes, "don't do that again."

"Right," he agreed with himself, "keep the damn thing straight this time." The man curled around to a slightly better angle; took the gun barrel in a firm grasp and, with a steady push, levered the rock up a few inches. He took a deep breath and rolled over on to his back, yanking his injured arm clear. The slab of stone crashed down, spraying dirt and pebbles across O'Neill's head.

"Oh-ho-ho-oh, crap," he gasped when the world finally stopped dancing around. His arm was draped loosely over his stomach and something warm was trickling off his fingers. Jack dragged himself the few feet to the wall and struggled upright, propping his back against the rough support. Only then did he examine the mess that was lying in his lap. The jacket sleeve was soaked with blood and had jagged bits of a GDO's casing poking through.

"Son of a bitch! The one time I wear the damn thing instead of leaving it in my pocket." He leaned his head against the wall as he fumbled to unsheathe his combat knife. Delicately he inserted the point under his cuff and slid the sharp blade up the sleeve, slicing it open to his elbow. He repeated this surgery on his shirt. Jack felt the fabric fall away and grimaced as he got his first glance at the remains of his forearm.

The GDO had shattered at the impact, driving bits of casing, circuits and wiring into the flesh. Cutting the velcro straps, he carefully pulled the larger pieces away. Profanity in a dozen different languages echoed through the caves as he extracted more of the jagged bits of plastic. At last, he quit the torture. He shook out a field dressing and, gritting his teeth, laid it gingerly over the wound and tied it down as well as possible with one hand.

He debated taking a pain pill but decided to wait until he was out of the caves. No telling what he would find and he wanted a clear head to deal with any problems. Standing up was the first hurdle.

Lurching to his feet, Jack hugged the wall until the room quit spinning. He could put up with the headache and the nausea; the double vision was going to be interesting. "Great. Another concussion. Maybe I need to start wearing a helmet."

Slowly and carefully, he retrieved his gun and ammo. Getting the pistol reloaded, he slid it into the holster.

Jack looked around the room. He recognized the tilted shape of one of those troublesome Quantum Mirror thingies. The 'other' O'Neill wouldn't be going home through it though. A pile of boulders filled the center where the 'mirror' was supposed to be. Jack shuddered at the thought of what his double would have to go through. "What the hell did Carter call them? Tropical cascades? No, that's not right."

He continued talking to himself aloud as he made his way out. He edged along the narrow ledge that bordered the missing section of floor. "That looks like about 20 feet down, not a good time to lose your balance, buddy boy."

Jack gave himself directions as he followed the path to the entrance. "Down here; turn right. Two openings; turn right again. Third passage; turn left. Fourth opening or was it fifth? No, fourth; turn left again. See the light? That's the entrance. You can rest there."

Outside the cave, the man folded down to the ground, waiting for the pounding in his head to subside. Finally, he took out the pain pills and swallowed two with a sip of water, hoping they would stay down long enough to have some effect. The Colonel staggered to his feet and started the twenty-minute walk to the Stargate through the gathering dusk.

Fifty minutes later, in the pitch dark, Jack found the DHD by slamming his arm into it. After the echoes of his bellow died, none of the normal night sounds resumed for a while. The only thing to be heard was mumbled incoherent cursing as the man tried to get his last light stick out of a left side pocket. His left arm was tucked limply into his jacket because he couldn't get his hand to move any longer. Jack was on the verge of slicing the pocket open when he got a two-finger grip on the plastic and eased the little cylinder free. Snapping it against the edge of the DHD, the man clutched the light to his palm and checked the area.

"They took the MALP back," he observed as part of his ongoing conversation with himself.

"Of course they did, Jack. They've already rescued you. There's no one left here."

"This radio better have a REAL long range." He dialed the Gate and after the kawoosh settled down, began broadcasting through the wormhole.

* * *

Daniel jumped off the bed where he was sitting. "Sam, Teal'c. Let's go. I can't stand it in here any more." 

"Go where?" Sam asked, sliding off her bed and letting Teal'c wrap a robe around her.

"Some place, any place. I don't care. As long as it's not here."

The three ended up in Daniel's lab. Teal'c sat on the couch with Sam leaning on his shoulder. Daniel started by sitting at his desk, then wandered around the room, fidgeting. They were silent, lost in their own thoughts. At least here every sight, sound and smell didn't remind them that a member of their team, their family, was dead and that they killed him.

_Could Jack have survived? How severely would he have been paralyzed? Did we do the right thing?_ The same questions rolled over and over in all their minds.

The sounds of the base waking up for the day drifted into the partially open door. People began walking back and forth in the hall and, since the grapevine hadn't passed along the sad news yet, voices chatted about everyday events. The normal life of the SGC carried on.

Daniel almost expected a familiar set of footsteps to stop outside; to have the door pushed open and Jack to be standing there with that half grin plastered on his face.

"Good morning, Campers," Daniel said, sadly.

"Sleep well? I did," Sam continued the phrase. "Remember the first time he used that on us? After we found that Orb on P5C-353 and worked all night trying to figure it out."

Their reminiscing was cut short when the klaxons sounded, immediately followed by the urgent, "Unauthorized off world activation. Unauthorized off world activation."

SG-1 scrambled as fast as possible to the control room. They got held up because the elevators were on the surface bringing down the day shift. The wormhole shut down as they skidded to a stop next to General Hammond.

He looked at them totally dumbfounded. "You have to hear this. Play the recording, sergeant."

A familiar voice came from the speakers, "Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is SG-one-niner. Colonel Jack O'Neill. Mayday, mayday, mayday. My GDO is broken and I'm injured. Concussion and possible broken arm. Mayday, mayday, mayday. George, they picked up the wrong O'Neill. Send another team back here. Mayday, may…" The transmission cut off abruptly, leaving only the hiss of an open circuit.

Teal'c and Daniel both opened their mouths, but before they could say anything, Hammond told them, "Go." They ran out so fast that papers flew in their wake.

* * *

"…day, mayday. C'mon guys. I hope to hell you're hearing this. Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is SG-one-niner. Colonel..." The wormhole collapsed in the middle of the sentence. Jack jerked the radio out of the vest pocket and checked it over. The indicator light wasn't lit; the batteries were dead. He didn't know if he was transmitting at all. 

"Oh, crap!" The nighttime sounds died again as the wildlife cowered before the loud new creature in their midst. Jack was leaning on the DHD doing his contortionist act to get fresh batteries from a left pocket when the chevrons started to light up. He dropped to the ground and took cover behind the pedestal. Better safe than sorry.

The light of the wormhole blasted into the night, scaring the remaining animals out of the area. The MALP's motors whined as it rolled down the stairs from the platform.

Sam's voice called from its speakers, "Colonel O'Neill. Where are you, sir? If you can hear me, please answer."

"Here, by the DHD," O'Neill shouted, sliding out from behind it.

"I don't see you." The camera on the MALP was aimed at head height.

"Look down." He realized that getting to the ground was easy but getting up was going to be impossible. "Uh, kids. I could use a hand here."

Daniel and Teal'c came running out of the Gate and over to Jack, who was clutching the DHD's rim and fighting to stand. Their eyes widened as they got a look at him. Mud and blood made a gory camouflage on his face and darkened half the silver in his hair. The front of his clothes was stained rusty brown and his sliced sleeves waved stiffly.

Teal'c took his friend's arm and lifted him bodily to his feet. "We have him."

As soon as the Gate shut down, Daniel was hitting the symbols like a speed-dial. "Bink, bink, bink, bink … bink, bink, bink, SLAP!" The travelers' eyes didn't have time to adjust to the dark before the light flared again.

Teal'c had an arm draped over his shoulder; Daniel had him by the belt. Together, the two men half carried, half dragged Colonel O'Neill home.

* * *

The scene at the SGC was almost a repeat of the evening before. The Colonel, unconscious on a gurney, being rolled to the infirmary with SG-1 right behind. Once again, Hammond didn't try to keep them. The orderlies, out of habit, took Jack to his usual bed. The place where the 'other' died. Two guards stood nearby just in case this was some new trick by the Goa'uld to get through Earth's defenses. But this time, Janet allowed the rest of the team to wait in the area directly opposite Jack's bed. 

The three anxiously stared at the curtain, trying to judge what was happening by the sounds they could hear. First, there were boots being tossed in the corner then, the rip of velcro and the vest, with its weapons, was handed out to a guard for delivery to the armory. Scissors started cutting through fabric and the shredded remains of a uniform hit the floor. Soon the steady beep of a monitor added its reassuring note.

There wasn't the frantic flurry of activity that accompanied the 'other' O'Neill's arrival either. Dr. Fraiser, two nurses and the orderlies handled things easily. The quiet murmur of question and response was heartening. Finally, they heard the phrase they'd been waiting for.

"Welcome back, Colonel. How are you feeling?" Janet was very upbeat.

"Like crap," Jack growled.

"That's our Jack," Daniel commented. His smile was duplicated on Sam and Teal'c. They jumped at a yell from behind the drape.

"Gaaaahhh! What the hell was that?"

"Relax, Colonel. Just a local anesthetic to numb your arm. We have to finish cleaning out the wound." Janet hesitated before asking, "What caused it?"

"That's what happens to a GDO when you drop a large **rock** on it," he complained, then continued, "How's the 'other' guy doing? He took a hell of a … STOP!"

"I guess that means you can still feel it? Gloria, another ten cc's … here and here. Then give it a few minutes," Janet told her nurse. Pulling back the drape, she continued, "Colonel, there're some people anxious to see you."

Daniel, Teal'c and Sam crowded around. They were having a hard time erasing the last image of their friend in this bed. His pale, motionless form was engraved on their minds.

While he was pale and had streaks of grime on his face and hair, this Jack O'Neill was propped up, awake, and talking. Wonderfully bitching at the world.

"Hey, kids. Miss me?" He grinned at them.

Teal'c was the first to speak, "We did indeed, O'Neill. I am pleased to have you with us again." He smiled and bowed his head.

Jack's eyes opened wide as the medication Janet injected into the IV hit his blood. "Whoa, man."

Daniel, who was biting his lower lip and blinking furiously, could only nod. Sam was clutching the foot of the bed and shaking her head.

"Carter? Daniel? You guys look … like you've … seen … a ghost." The Colonel's speech slowed down as the drugs took effect. "What's … going … ?" His head settled back on the pillow as he fell asleep.

Janet spoke up, "Something to make him rest for a few hours. He's lost a lot of blood, but he's in no danger."

Gloria came back with her instrument tray to pick out the GDO's remnants. Janet took Sam and Daniel by the arm and led them away, Teal'c following closely behind.

* * *

General Hammond glanced around the table at the people gathered for SG-1's debriefing. Dr. Jackson and Teal'c sat at this left, with Dr. Fraiser next to them. Dr. Warner sat across the table, Major Carter on his left, and Colonel O'Neill's seat, directly to Hammond's right, was vacant. 

The General asked the question that was on everyone's mind. "What the hell happened here? Anybody?"

"Sir. If I may?" Dr. Warner cleared his throat and continued, "I completed the autopsy on Colonel … on the first person brought back. We did a DNA test to be sure. He matched the samples on file for O'Neill. There is one major difference however. He has a symbiote."

You could have heard the proverbial pin drop in the conference room.

"He was a Goa'uld?" Hammond couldn't believe his ears.

"Not necessarily, Sir," Dr. Fraiser jumped in to explain, "Colonel O'Neill carried a symbiote for a while. The Tok'ra, Kanan."

"But Kanan is dead. He abandoned the Colonel to Ba'al."

Daniel chimed in with his comments. "In our reality, Kanan is dead. Maybe in another reality, they truly Blended and stayed together."

"Dr. Jackson," Hammond said indignantly, "Are you trying to tell me there's a Quantum Mirror on that planet? What the hell did that race do, drop them all over the galaxy?"

"General, if there is a Mirror in those caves, that could explain the energy readings I was getting." Another thought struck Sam, "It would also explain how the Colonel knew we picked up the 'wrong' O'Neill. He saw the 'other' and the Mirror."

General Hammond pondered this stunning compendium of facts and speculation. Eventually, he looked at Fraiser. "Doctor, when will Colonel O'Neill be available for debriefing? He seems to have a key piece of this puzzle."

Janet stared at the clock on the wall, tapping her fingers on the table as though counting hours. "Possibly late tomorrow morning. Provided he doesn't develop an infection in his arm."

Hammond stood up. "Very well, people. Meet back here at 1300 hours tomorrow. Dismissed."

* * *

It was seven in the evening and Jack was still poking gingerly at what was supposed to be food on his dinner tray. Suddenly, he dropped his fork, lifting his head high and sniffing the air. His stomach growled at the scent of real food as it drifted past the curtain drawn partially around his bed. 

"Kung Pao Chicken, Sweet and Sour Pork, Mongolian Beef, Shrimp in Garlic Sauce, Fried Rice." He plopped his head back into his pillow and closed his eyes. "Kill me now," he moaned theatrically, believing it was the nurses' take-out.

"Don't you want to eat first?" Daniel tapped Jack's foot with a container. "Or can I have your egg rolls?"

"Touch my egg rolls and you die." The effectiveness of the threat was ruined by the grin on Jack's face. He sat up, pulling his legs over to one side to make room for the containers and bags. Having snuck enough outside food into the infirmary over the years, he knew the price the perpetrators would have to pay if caught. He asked, "Did Fraiser go home?"

"No, sir. Fraiser did not go home." The diminutive doctor sat a stack of plates and silverware on the bed table. "I accepted a bribe. As long as I was invited, they could have a dinner party."

Everyone bustled around, stealing bed tables, chairs and carts. Teal'c removed the offending dinner tray from the mess hall, leaving it at the nurse's desk. Janet gave Jack a small plate with two egg rolls and a generous dollop of hot mustard. "Start with those."

He found it awkward to eat with one hand, especially since there was an IV stuck in it. "Oh for crying out loud," he griped when the line caught on the bed rail for the third time in five minutes, "you couldn't put this in the other hand? It's not doing anything else."

Janet set down her plate and disappeared. She came back with a length of gauze, with which she tied some of the excess tubing to his forearm and clipped some more to the shoulder of the hospital gown. "How's that?"

The man moved his arm around in a normal range of motion. "That'll work. Thanks."

They were almost through eating when Jack interrupted the babble of conversation flowing around the group. "You know, I never did get an answer to my question."

"What question, sir?"

"Where's the other … me?" Jack looked highly uncomfortable at that concept. "He took a hell of a fall. Why isn't he," O'Neill hesitated as the possible answer occurred to him, "in the infirmary? Janet?"

All the discussions fell silent as everyone looked to the doctor.

Fraiser laid down her chopsticks, took deep breath and delivered the bad news. "He died, last night, shortly after we got him back here."

"He **died**," Jack repeated, incredulously.

"Of a broken neck and internal injuries," she finished the report and stared at her plate.

O'Neill looked sick as the implications sank in. "Oh God," he breathed, "and you all thought he was me."

"Until this morning, sir," Carter added quietly, "after we received your Mayday."

"He **was** me." He was still lost in the concept that his friends watched him die. "You couldn't know. No wonder you looked like you'd seen a ghost this morning."

Jack looked into the faces of the four people he felt closest to in the world. "I … I ... God. I'm sorry," he bit his lip, unable to continue for a moment. "I heard you leave with him. But I thought he'd be able to tell you … I never expected … you would have never known."

A curious thought crept into his mind. "For that matter, how do you know that I'm not conning you? That I'm not the 'other' O'Neill, and he was the real one?"

Daniel answered that question. "He had a symbiote. Kanan, we suspect. The aut…" the man glanced at the food spread around them, "… exam showed that it was killed by the initial impact. That's why it couldn't help heal him."

The Colonel seemed just as shocked by this announcement as at the news his 'other' died. He pushed the half-eaten plate of food away and leaned back in bed, trying to absorb the information.

"Colonel?" Janet sounded concerned.

"I'm fine," he answered absently.

She caught Sam's eye and, pointing to the containers, gestured for everyone to leave. "I think it's time you got some more rest, Sir. I'll be giving you something to help you sleep."

Leftovers were quickly packed away and the team said their goodnights. Jack tried to respond normally, but he was obviously distracted.

Dr. Fraiser came back with an injection, but before she could add it to the IV, Jack spoke up, "What really happened last night, Doc?"

"Your team saw 'you' die, that's what happened," she said, tensely. She stuck the needle in the IV port.

"Stop," he ordered, catching her sleeve. "There's more to it than that. Something else is bothering them. What?"

Janet shook her head and pressed the plunger down. "Ask them."

"Dammit, Doc. You know … they … won't..." Janet put a hand on the Colonel's chest; stopping his forward tilt and pressing him back to the pillow. "… tell … me," he finished groggily as she lowered the head of the bed.

"Good night, Colonel," she said, but he was already asleep.

By nine-thirty the next morning, Dr. Fraiser was ready to literally throw O'Neill out of the infirmary. She made the mistake of removing his IV when she arrived; that was the one thing that kept him tethered to the bed. When he wasn't disrupting the nurses' morning duties, he was leaning against her office door wanting to chat. Then she found Jack standing in the morgue, staring at the impassive face of his double. Taking the sheet from his hand, she covered the body and firmly led him back to bed.

Jack commented, "You know, he doesn't really look like me. His hair is longer and he's got a scar on his jaw."

"Colonel, we didn't exactly have time to compare haircuts that night." The doctor was getting exasperated with her always troublesome patient. She zipped the curtain around the space. "Sit down, sir. When we're finished, you'll be free to go pester someone else for a change."

Dr. Fraiser popped the shoulder snaps on the gown that Jack was wearing like a shirt, and began examining him.

"Janet," he said, totally serious, "do I really piss you off that much?"

"Yes," she answered, just as seriously, then couldn't stop a grin at the look of dismay on his face, "but I'm a glutton for punishment. Keep it up, Jack. It just wouldn't be the same around here."

The man winced a few times as the doctor prodded bruises on his back. He inquired softly, "Was it quick? For … him?"

"I think so. I doubt if he was aware of anything after the fall. Why?"

"He couldn't go home. Through the Mirror. It was destroyed in the earthquake." Jack reached up and rubbed the tension from the back of his neck. "He would have the same problem the two Carters did," O'Neill shuddered at the thought, "Not a good thing."

Dr. Fraiser shivered also, even more grateful that Teal'c had stopped her efforts.

She tried to sound cheerful for this patient's sake. "Okay, Colonel. You don't have a totally clean bill of health but you're free to go. You are restricted to base for the next three days and I expect you back here to get your dressing changed every morning and every evening. I'll give you something for the headache; I suggest that you take it. Any questions?"

He picked at the light cotton pajama pants he was wearing, "My clothes?"

A nurse stopped outside the drape and cleared her throat. Janet reached out and took the bundle, complete with boots. "Do you need any help?"

"I don't think so, Doc," he answered with a laugh. Ten minutes later, he stuffed the laces into his boots, checked that he really had managed to button his trousers, eased the long sleeved shirt over his bandage, and checked out of the infirmary.

Colonel O'Neill immediately went searching for his team.

Daniel, Carter and Teal'c were bent over the worktable in Daniel's office, trying to create a map of the cave system. Other teams would be going back to the planet in an effort to find the Quantum Mirror and possibly make contact with the other reality. The hope was that they could become allies in their shared battle against the Goa'uld. At the very least, the body of O'Neill/Kanan could be returned to his own people.

Daniel's ear was caught by the odd sounding footsteps in the corridor. There was almost an echo to them, like the boots were striking the floor twice in every step. He turned his head to look just as the noise stopped outside his partially open door. Chuckling with anticipation, he watched the door swing wide and saw Jack standing there.

"Good Morning, Campers," the two men said in unison.

Daniel laughed, "God. For a while, I thought we'd never hear that again." He jumped off his stool and hurried over to Jack. Throwing an arm around the other man's shoulders, he led him over to the table and sat him down on the vacant stool.

"How are you feeling, Sir?" Carter was beaming and Teal'c even had a small smile.

The Colonel shrugged, answering matter-of-factly, "Like crap. My whole back side is black and blue, I've got a headache, and," he squinted at the others, "there're six of you here. Other than that?" Nodding toward her sling, he continued, "How's the shoulder, Carter?"

"Hurts. You know how it goes."

"Yeah." O'Neill tapped the paper on the table. "What are you guys doing?"

"We are endeavoring to create a map of the caves. General Hammond wishes to send others to explore," Teal'c explained. "He was most concerned at the thought of another Quantum Mirror. Are you aware of its location, O'Neill?"

Jack's finger traced, in reverse, the route he took out. "Here, I think. Things were a little fuzzy by then."

Daniel was also checking routes. "That's right above where we found you." He looked uncomfortable. "The other … you, I mean."

"Yeah. The floor dropped out from under him." Shaking his head, he added, "Finding the Mirror won't do you any good, though. It was smashed in the earthquake."

It took a few seconds for the significance to sink in.

"If it was destroyed, then he couldn't," Daniel voice faded out and Carter finished the sentence, "go home. He would have still died, of entropic cascade failure."

"I thought of that," Jack remarked, dismally. "I hate to say it but maybe it was better this way."

The rest of the team glanced at one another, managing to look guilty and relieved at the same time.

Jack slid off the chair and shuffled to the door, which he closed securely. "Okay, what's eating you? You think I'm mad because you left me there? That you didn't realize you had the wrong guy? What?" He hit the most susceptible link in the chain. "Daniel?"

Dr. Jackson stared at his shoes, shaking his head no.

The Major was absorbed in drawing figure eights on the table with her finger.

"Carter, spill it." O'Neill was beginning to be concerned. He came over and stood next to her. "Sam, please."

Teal'c suddenly announced, "I caused the death of the other O'Neill."

Three voices tumbled over one another as they tried to explain this bald statement. After a few moments the jumble hushed.

As he caught the gist of the story, Jack dropped down onto the couch where he leaned over with his forehead in his hand. Finally, he cleared his throat and coughed. "Thank you," he said gruffly.

"Jack, don't you get it? We killed him." Daniel's voiced cracked with anguish. "Hell, we thought we killed YOU."

"No, Daniel." The Colonel tried to wipe the mist from his vision as he raised his head to gaze at his team. "You thought you were doing me the greatest favor I could never ask of you," he swallowed hard before going on, "I don't know how to thank you."

Jack approached his friends and gave each a one-armed hug. "I know the 'other' O'Neill is just as grateful."

Daniel took a handful of tissues and passed the box to Sam. He blew his nose before scolding, "Just don't ever let it happen again."

"Yes, Dad," Jack laughed fondly, then inquired, "Is anyone else hungry?"

He stumbled on the way to the door when one foot came totally out of his unlaced boot. Chagrined, the Colonel had to stand in the middle of the floor while Daniel knelt behind him, reached around, bloused his trousers properly and tied his boots.

Carter nudged Jack's shoulder as they left the office. "He did the same thing to me, Sir," she muttered conspiratorially.

"Attention!" The personnel in the Gateroom snapped to as the door slid open and the honor guard entered with the US flag and the SCG flag. A few seconds later six airmen carried in a flag draped coffin followed closely by SG-1. The airmen slow-marched halfway up the ramp to the Stargate, where they laid their burden on the bier there. SG-1 stepped into the front rank of officers.

The flag was removed, precisely and reverently folded, and presented to Colonel O'Neill. Cables were clipped to the four corners of the platform. As the pallbearers filed off the ramp the coffin was lifted to the center height of the Stargate.

General Hammond began speaking as the ceremony proceeded. "It's difficult to know what to say about a man we didn't get to meet. We will never learn what his reality was like or the role he and his symbiote played. All we can do is regret his loss and share some small portion of the sorrow his people are feeling." He signaled the control room to dial the Stargate. "Rest in Peace."

The bugler played "Taps" as the chevrons engaged one by one. The noise of the wormhole forming and collapsing drowned out some of the song, but the last few notes remained shimmering in the space where the coffin had been.

"Rest in Peace, Jack," Colonel O'Neill whispered to himself.

* * *

Two months later, the sole surviving member of SG-1 made his way through the corridors of the SGA. This was the first time he'd been free to pay his respects to his lost teammates. His broken back kept him confined to the hospital at first and now, forever, to a wheelchair. He stopped by the memorial wall in the chapel and gazed at the three new photographs hanging there. 

Two were bordered in black, confirmed dead. Doctor Daniel Jackson. Doctor Samantha O'Neill. The other was bordered in white, missing in action. General Jack O'Neill. Irrevocably missing in action.

finis

© 2004 Jynjyr


End file.
